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2014-02-24 - Monkeys on a Train
At first, nobody was sure what had happened. Worse, the railroad tried to cover its own...assets...and keep it all hush-hush. Before anyone knew how serious things were, a train pulling several tank cars of methyl bromide and phosgene was chugging along, unattended, from the rail yards and headed into Queens. Part human error, part mechanical failure, all the makings of complete disaster. Until the man on the motorcycle appeared out of nowhere. A cowboy, actually...red bandana covering his features, white Stetson atop his head. More alarmingly, twin six-shooters on his hips and a lariat in his hand. He'd quickly overtaken the engineer-less train, roped a handhold on the lead car, and pulled himself aboard. Pulling the throttle back and engaging the brakes, he'd managed to avoid a catastophee. But he came to a halt in the middle of morning traffic, which made getting away from the scene, especially sans motorcycle, trickier... And there went Kory, floating along and speaking over into a cell phone, otherwise going in and out of traffic now then as she went on the city streets speaking with a friend, "Well, he does not say 'I'm Batman' when he is met. Though he is Batman, so it would nto be wrong for him to say it for he would merely be stating what he is. Though I have not heard him constantly saying it, but you are right then, fro he is Batman." IT's.. Probably better to not ask who or whatis on the other side of the phone. "Well, ah'll be plagued. This here's not rightly what I had in mind," The Vigilante beetled his dark brows as the train came to a slow halt...safe and at rest, but blocking several lanes of traffic and holding up commuter trains halted to prevent calamity. He squared his shoulders and stepped off the engine amidst honking and Bronx cheers...and worse...from the inconvenienced commuters. "Hey, now, folks...just hold onto yore horses. Railroad will be along right quick t' get this here lasso snarl all untied and ever'body headed on their way." And then there was the floating young lady weaving in and out of traffic to go along with all the rest of the chaos. Starfire gives a wave up, "Hello Mister Cowboy! I do have a question. Why would the horses want to be held? Would they not otherwise prefer to be ridden? I would imagine over that a horse, even if one is capable of lifting it, would notbe very comfortable over with such a position and would find it somewhat disorienting to be picked upa nd slung?" She gives a wave, "And also why do you call cowboys cowboys even if they are girls? Are cowgirls a separate theing then over from cowboys who are actually girls then so you are obligated to call them something else?" Run. Run fast. Oddly enough, the arrival of the hovering orange gal seems to quell the crowd, especially since she engages Vigilante in such a visual fashion, standing as they are heads above the crowds. Well...standing and floating. This -could- just be the berries to keep everyone from getting ugly because of the traffic jam. Besides, Greg Saunders has had some experince playing an audience when it comes to comedy bits on the radio. Judging by the giggles from a group of school kids listening to...what was her name? Starfire! That was it...a Titan.... Well, this might be as good as the old Burns and Allens routines if he played his hand right. "Well, howdy there, young'un. Come on down, Starfire,"Vigilante rocked back on his heels and waved her closer. The way he said her name, it sounded more like 'Starfar'. "You surely do make a good point. Horses don't like bein' held up, nor slung. Just like these here folks don't like bein' stuck tryin' t' get t' work an' school. But that's the card they drew this mronin'. And y' know...I known a lotta cowboys in my day who was girls. Some of the best hands, in fact. It reminds me of a little song I heard not long ago. Maybe we can entertain these good folks 'til the Railroad People come re-claim their runaway train. You game, darlin'?" Just don't askher who is on First. It might make Cthulhu riseout of the detphs of the Husdon. She floated over, "Hello Mister Masked Man. And I don't know, I thought I was older than one." She considers, "Though I am young, I would hae to otherwise consult your calendar system in order to ascertain my age then if the equivalent for you was over in it." SHe nods over, "And yes, it is very uncomfortable for horses to be lifted up, as well as otherwise likely disorienting. I believe they like to keep thier hooves over on the ground then. Or do they wish to get their clop on?" SOme things are probably better not asked then just hwo her mind goes along with playing along to language. "And why do the horseshave so many hands? I thought that they had hooves and a tail and a mane. Have I been thinking something else was a horse all this time?" PRobably best nto to ask about Mister Ed.. "Young one, like young person," Vigilante whewed and set his hat back, thumbing up the brim while considering the floating version of the Quiz Queen home game. This might take a bit o' parsing. But even now, the crowd was quieting so they could listen to the superheroes...and chuckling at Starfire's logic and questions. "Doggies...I mean, horses...doggies we call 'em as terms o' affection. Horses do enjoy gettin' their...uh...clop on. And their clip. An' even, if they got the right bridles, the jingle, jangle jingle. Now horses an' hands..that's a good question. We measure 'em in 'hands' tall. Like feet or inches." Vigilante shows swhat he means by using his hands, stcking them up to show the height of an imaginary 'pony'. "By the way, I'm called Vigilante," he said, sweeping his Stetson and taking a bow to the flying girl. "Heard o' you, but never met. It's a pleasure, ma'am." Starfire smiles, "It is a pleasure to be here then! And I hae not unfortunately heard of you, Mister Vigilante. Though you have a very nice mask! And why do you call the horses doggies and the doggies horses? DOes that not lend itself over to getting mixed up? And I have met many ponies and they are always magical things and have such amazing parties and adventures in friendship. And why do you measure the horses over in hands then? Would it not be better to measure them over in feet? Unless you are wearing platforms, then that might make your feet big. Or do you measure them in the little shoes the horses wear?" If his friend Sir Justin were here, he'd be talling Greg to just cut this Gordian knot of logic with a sword, or some such. But the important thing is, the stalled commuters, once on the verge of rebellion, are shuttingoff their engines and laughing at the impromptu stand up routine. "'Cause by makin' up names for stuff, cowboys can tell if someone's a wrangler or a tenderfoot just by the terms they use," he verbally parried, smiling under the bandana. "An' we don't use feet, for measure 'cause stackin' 'em up would be too hard. Unless we could fly, like you, darlin'. An' measurin' in horseshows? No good, too flat...unless horse shoes came in stiletto heels." Vigilante hooked his thumbs into his gunbelt and rocked back a bit more on the heels of his boots. "Now I got a question for you, darlin': Sounds like you know Batman. How come he talks like he's got a mouthfulla pin cushions? All that garglin' with razor blades, 'I'm Batman...' stuff?" But with his luck they would get Jonah Hex and John Constantine. The world isn't ready yet for such things yet. And the poor commuters are probably otherwise confused over to the point that they've decided to let logic go out to the boathouse. "Well, why would they want to make up names for things then? Would not using the names be enough over? And if they had tender feet would not wearing more comfortable shoes solve the issue then?" She goes over then and continues to consider, "Well, i suppose also that measuring things by shoes would not be effective either." She goes over, "And Batman talks that way because he is Batman. I believe it is simply the way that Batman talks, so Batman talks like Batman because he is Batman. For if he did not talk he would not be tlaking like he was Batman, but he is so he talks that way." "'Cause people are happier when they figure they got their own little code that nobody except others in their posse understands," Vigilante chuckles. "Like a secret handshake. "Just how we roll, us human beah'ns." Vigilante considers her answer regarding Batman and rubs his chin, pondering. "Y'know...that makes a certain amount o' horse...good...sense. Someone's gotta be batman, might as well be him. He seems...I dunno...really cut out for it." Time tore-group, and draw a breath. Vigilante looks over the crowd and spots a young street artist with a guitar case. "Yo, buckaroo! Mind if I borrow your gee-tar for just a bit?" The Busker hands it over with a quizzical smile and Vigilante slips him a $20. "Much obliged." The Western hero takes out the acoustic guitar and strums...tunes...tightens and gets a feel for the frets with some practice strums. "Now, Starfire...how's yore singin' voice?" Starfire nods cheerfully over at Vigilante, "I have been told over that I sound like Tara Strong, but she sounds like everyone when they sing or maybe it is everyone sounds over like her. But regardless, I do not know over if I do or not for I have not met hr so I cannot say if I do, but given many people say such things I suppose that it would be as good a way to put my singing voice as any." She goes on, "And also strangely enough Batman generally hits things over with his fists over instead of a bat. Then if he did he woudl be Batman batting people with a bat." Laughing easily as he works a soft set of chords from the guitar with his gloved fingers, Vigilante opines. "Unless he was from England. Then he'd be Cricket Man," he offers, almost afraid of where this would lead if hegives Starfire a chance. Entomology and superheroics...can Ant-Man and the Blue Beetle be far behind? In the hopes of de-railing this line before it leaves the station, Greg takes his cowboy hat off and sets it atop the young heroine's head. "Use that there palavering de-vice o' yourn...that smart phone?...an' call up lyrics to a little tune called, 'That Girl Is a Cowboy', Starfire. I'll start it off, then y'all just jump in fer the chorus." In the distance, the Transit Authority vehicles are parking and officers deploying to come to the rescue of the 'trapped' heroes. Starfire nods over then in contemplation, "Unless it was the time when there was that duck with the very big hat then that kept on saying that he was getting dnagerous. In that time I believe that Batman was not a man or a bat and in other words.." She nods over then over and as she is gestured at starts to sing. She does not know the words but she can follow along over with them and otherwise keep up at a perfect pitch and octave. "It was a hundred and seven," Vigilante begins, "We werer heading to town; She had her sleeves rolled up, And the windows rolled down. That girl is a cowboy." He gives her time to bring up the lyrics and then continues,"Robert Earl was singing out, The "Buckin' Song", With every word that keen was bringing, She was singing along. That girl is a cowboy." Then comes the chorus and Greg waits for the orange girl to join in, giving her the lead as he tries to help with the words. "Sometimes the best cowboys, Ain't cowboys at all. She's got my back, Even when it's against the wall. "When I need a friend, She's the guy to call. 'Cause sometimes the best cowboys, Ain't cowboys at all!" Starfire manages to keep along with the song. She's a half beat after him, so it sounds almost like an echo then as she lets him get out the words and then follows along, matching the tune, an dit's almost a sweet serenade if she would have beena ble to match to him. As the chorus and refrain continues, she manages to keep up wtih it and matches the tone then and goes a bit faster. Pausing between verses, Vigilante encourages his duet partner as the crowd reacts with a few claps of delight and woops of support, "That's the way, darlin'. Yore a natural born songstress, an' no mistake." He coaxes the guitar into the next refrain as his voice echoes over the concrete canyons of the city. "So I took her out to show her, How to rope and ride. I can't believe that is was me, That wound up broke and tied! 'Cause ya know....tThat girl isa cowboy!" This time he holds back to let Starfire lead in the chorus, adding his voice as the echo and letting her lovely singing voice shine. If she's never had lessons, she should! A set of rhinestone bucksins, and this gal could play the Opry. It's probably best that the two are singing and she's not asking why you would make skins out of bucks named rhine. Otherwise you might be getting close to disco and risk summoning Dazzler. And Koriand'r's voice matches as she joins in the serenade, a little closer to your own then as she sings and goes on with her part, and has the words down over as the songs fill the air and sh ematches, still a bit behind as the next verse picks up. Vigilante had thought the same thing...the lyrics to -this- song could lead to questions that made the earlier palaver look mighty tame by coomparision. But when two are speakin' the language of music, it's more feelin'over thinkin'. The Western hero winks over his bandana as Starfire carries off her part with building confidence, and heads into the last verses as the Transit Authority folks climb aboard the locomotive and get it ready to roll. Even they pause a second, though to survey the rapt audience and the singing heroes. "So that night I decided, We should paint the town. I made it home although, I really don't remember how. That girl is a cowboy!" He motions with his head andthe neck of the guitar to indicate just which floating, Stetson-wearing girl he's talking about now. "There's just something that a cowgirl has, Ain't no coboys got. Man she's something when she's one of the boys....But she's sure something else, Anytime she's not! That girl...she's a cowboy!" One more chorus and then Vigilante does a slow outro, trying to match the sweet ad tender voice of the princess from another planet. And then...the crowd of hard-bitten, jaundiced New Yorkers let loose with applause and cheers. Vigilante holds up hands with Starfire and then shows her how to take a duet-style bow together. He gestures to her after they come back up and addresses the appreciative audience, "Starfire, ladies and gents! Give it up for the best duet partner a cowboy could ask for! Yeeeeeeeehhhhhhaaaawwwww!!!!" Then the Western troubadour laughs beneath his mask, "Ya did fine, darlin'...better than fine. I ain't got t' sing a duet that much fun since me and Rosemary Clooney had one too many whiskey shots back in...well, don't matter none." He clears off the edge of the engine and lets the professional clean up crew get the flow of traffic started again. Listening to Starfire's offer his dark brows take wing and he blinks. "The Original Rays!?!? Starfire, you got a pizza pardner, pardner. I ain't been there since Heck was pup...erm, that means, for a long, long time." Greg also hands the borrowed guitar back to the busker, who takes the instrument and looks at it like...well, like it just went up in value. Any barrage of questions that otherwise Starfire might have are cut off over then by the quick translation that is made, "Very well then, for we can go then!" Hopefully this Ray's will not have Egon and Peter over at it. Also, as any true New Yorker would know, it does not hav e'Original' over in the name despite what is said in the phone book. Starfire goes to cheerfully offer up her arm then to start to let you lead on then once you've got the rest of your things together then. The cowboy offers his arm to his pizza-seeking partner and leads in...well, sorta the wrong direction. Like backtracking. But the reason is soon made clear; it's to retrieve his Vig-Cycle, left in the dust after he lassoed the runaway freight train. He picks the Art Deco-retro cycle up and checks the setting before giving it a firm kick start. The engine vroooms to life and he offers Starfire a hand to settle in behind him. "Not as much fun as goin' horseback, but safer in the city." He gives the young lady time to settle in and chuckles, "If the Ghostbusters are there, yah....we'll get an order t' go! I ain't 'fraid o' no ghosts, but I'm not hankerin' to get slimed, neither." Once she's aboard, Vigilante smoothly merges into traffic and heads uneeringly Ralph Cuomo's place at 27 Prince Street. Before the two get to the restaurant, and once parked, Vigilante takes a quick sidetrip after unlatching one of the cycle's saddlebags to carry like a briefcase. He slips into the doorway of a boarded-up building ready for urban renewal, or rennovation, and the sound of a door lock giving can be heard, He slips inside, and a few minutes later re-emerges wearing a different shirt, no bandana and no six-shooters. Without the mask, he's a clean-shaven, Western dressed guy in his late 30's or early 40's. "Sorry, but it's hard t' eat pizza with a bandana mask. Messy, at the least." He grins at Starfire and offers his hand. "Ah'm Greg." He might once have been reluctant to unmask for another supethero, but it's not as if anyone was posing as Starfire this successfully. And besides, when a man's been dead and then resurrected, he learns not to sweat the small stuff. After they get to the restaurant, the unmasked Vigilante watches with fascination as Kory digs into her unique pizza in her own unique way. Starfire smiles cheerfully, 'And I am Starfire, which I believe you know. And this place has wonderful pizza. Though the dishes that are deep in Chicago are also good. They have such wonderful pie over in the sky!" She goes over and shakes the hand, then goes to cheerfully lick her fingers clean over of a mix of jalapenos, hot sauce, pineapple and mustard before going to dig over into her slice again as she sits next over to her new friend. "And it is a pleasure to meet you then Greg! What do you prefer to be called over then by?" given he's also Mister Vigilante Man. Vigilante says, "I thought mah buffalo wings an' taco pizza was special even for 'specialty' pizza...but yah done got that beat all hollow, darlin'," he laughs at the frenetic energy ball that is Starfire. The Western-attired man gets a deep dish slice of his own brand o' Italian poison and goes to town. "Greg's fine, ma'am," he says, wiping his mouth between bites. He also orders up a beer to wash it down. No lite brew, either, and no imported. Beer. Strong and American, like he prefers it, despite Sir Justin always insisting that he try stouts and ales. If he's put off in the least by the greasy handshake, Greg doesn't show it. He just grins wider and settles back, watching the girl who still wears his cowboy hat. "Should I call you Starfire, then? Or Star? Or Fire?"" Starfire goes on cheerfully, "You may call me Star, Fire, or Starfire if you wish to put them together but my full name over is Koriand'r." She considers, "Well, how strong then is the beer with the wings? Can it lift up the horses? Andare the horses somewaht disoriented then at being lfited over by barley that can fly?" She asks over in a very curious matter and flutters her eyelashes, green eyes looking over curiously then as she gets another slice of her pizza thenand goes to happily eat on it. Vigilante sips his beer and considers, taking on a country philosopher expression. "Y'know, I never thoguht about that. Old pard o' mine, he's got hisself a winged horse. Maybe that -is- how Winged Victory come to be. Buffalo wings, with stout ale." The twinkle in his eye shows he's not terribly serious about it, but the notion still tickles him. He meets her open, innocent emerald gaze and chuckles again, wondering how many Titan lads have been swept up in the exotic good looks of this young filly. "If it's alright by ya, I'll go with callin' you 'Kory', then," Greg offers. "Ah'm gonna take a guess an' say you ain't from around these here parts, Kory. How'd ya get hooked up in this superhero game so far from home?" Starfire nods over at him, "Kory is fine, and many call me that so I would not mind if you would become one of the many!" She is innocent in her own way, or perhaps just comes across as naive then in her own sense as seh geos over to nibble over at it then before returning her attention to them. "And my home planet was Tamaran. But now here Earth si my home." A story that which is not the time to elaborate over upon. Greg nods at the offered, and whitheld, degree of explanation. Code of the West: A man...or gal's...past is unimportant to their here and now. "Well, Tamaran's loss is Earth's gain, ma'am. Glad t' have ya on the side ofjustice." He tries another bite of his pizza, studying the young alien lady. "Ya'll really tore up that song, Kory. If you ain't never considered singin', you got talent enough to make a career of it. Every top hand needs somethin' to do when he or she ain't out punchin' outlaws and roundin' up strays." Starfire smiles over at Greg and nods, "Thank you. And I have been on Earth for several years, and it is a wonderful planet. And I have done singing before, just not that particular song, so I am sorry if I was somewhat off key. I did not wish to toherwise sing the wrong thing." Koriand'r smiles as she eats another bit of her pizza. "No, no...you got no reason to apologize, you were great...especially cold lik that, no practice." Greg takes another sip of beer and clarifies...or tries to..."'Tore up', in this case...well, that means you done betterthan most folks coulda done -with- practice and time t' get ready. You got a natural gift for music, Kory." His voice lowers a little after he takes another modest bite of pizza and he leans forward. "Lissen...I ain't been in the hero game for a while. Kinda got..sidetracked...for a couple years. And Ah'm pretty old style, while you and your team, you're the Young Guns o' the costumed crowd. Plus, I been outta New York for a while. Anythin' goin' on I should know about? Or that The Vigilante could help with? Greg brings a folded set of newspaper clippings out of his pocket and smoothes them flat on the table. "Yah, I been trying to get caufght up on all that's changed, and which teams are active where. It ain't easy! Lot's o' masks runnin' around these days," he admits. He chuckles again at Kroy's turn of phrase about the Avengers. "An' yah...you can find just about any stripe o' heroing ya care to look for. Avengin'. Defenden'. Invadin'. Thunderbolt'n." He points to one article, more like an advert, actually. 'Heroes for Hire'. "These folks look like they help normal folks with problems they can't handle on their own. Plus...well, not too much o' the Big Gun bad guys here. Street-level stuff, I guess. Probably more my bottle o' snakeoil than, say, a cosmic crisis. Not all o' us fly, or shoot eye beams, or have skin that can shed bullets like fleas off a red-bone hound." He looks a bit sheepish admitting it, but it's true. In the world of masks, he's no 'metahuman' powerhouse. Starfire nods quietly, "We help because we can and whomever we can, wtih whatever time we can. That is for why we are heroes." She eats antoher bite over of her pizza, "And whether we are those who are fighting off the giant lizard monster that is attacking New Jersey or simply those who are hanging out at the youth center and preventing ti from being bulldozed to drill for the oil that is underneath." SOmeone has come to think that the A-Team reflects over upon reality. "We all help those we are able to however we can. And the world is a better place simply because we all do as we would and what we could. That is why we are all heroes then, for big and small, whether they be Supergirl or yourself." "Well, sure...fightin' the good fight is more the size o' the fight in each hero, to see justice done. And I have gone into knuckle dusters wih more than one super-powered bad man in my time," Greg admits, and lightly defends. "But the cost has sometimes been steep, fightin' outta yore class. Figured I'd start modest and work mah way back into wherever I can do the most good." He listens to Kory's take on where she and her team have made the right kindof difference, big battles and small, and crooks a smile. "Sounds like ya'll keep more than a little busy out on yore ranch, Kory. Wish all the younger folks saw their duty as clear as you do." He intercepts the check as the waitress comes by to see if they need anything else. "I'd be honored if you'd let me do the buyin' here, Kory. Least I can do, to thank ya for that duet this mornin'. I've missed singin' for a crowd, even a captive audience like that. I ain't done it in a spell." Starfire smiles over as she eats her slice, "We fight because we wish to help others then. And you ar eallowed to do things over to help yourself help others." She smiles. Not everyone can be in such a way as she does. "And you continueto say the younger crowd then, but you do not otherwise look much older than I am or those of my friends. DO you mind then elaborating on what you mean? And I am always happy to sing. It is something that I have not had much tim eto do as of late and I appreciate." Greg shuffles some bills plus a healthy tip for the waitress and waits for her to draw away from the table before continuing. "Surely, Kory. Ah'm a bit older than I look, an' no mistake. I first put on the mask right before what we call the Second World War. But, like sometimes happens when ya pick the trail that ain't exactly the most galloped on, strange adventures wound up keeping me...well, cheatin' time. Ah may look like someone o' yore generation, but I been around long enough t' be a grandpa for most o' the heroes operatin' today." Starfire ndos over and smiels, "Then you ar elike the archaeologist that drank from the cup then and got to be very old but not look that way!" Her line of thought might eventually translate itself to the comprehension of the refernece of the well esteemed Doctor Jones but otherwise was just a passing note that could be taken as a joke. "Now yore mixin' me up with that old ridin' partner o' mine, The Shining Knight. He'd be more likely t' do Grail shots than me," Greg laughs. "But yup, you got the idea." Starfire smiles, "But does that armor not get uncomfortable to wear al lthe time then? Especially if one must take it off to make sure it has to shine?" The man in the glasses makes his way quietly to the pizza joint, only the sound of his cane lightly tapping annoucing him. Matt pauses a moment to listen, head cocked slightly in the manner of someone waiting to be joined by another party. When it's obvious that his dining partner isn't going to join him, he accepts the guidance to a nearby table, just happen to be near Kor and Greg, nodding politely towards them as he gets seatted. "Ah'm thinkin' Sir Justin's armor shines like that 'cause it's magic. Fact is, I never recollect seein' him shine it. Ever. Which is kind of a dirty cheat, seein' as how I had to clean mah guns all the time, back in theday," Greg considers over his beer. He scoots over a bit to make room for the fella with the dark glasses. Starfire nods over in consideration over of this, "Then how could it shine then if he did not have to shine it? Even Cyborg's armor needs the occasional polishing." She gives a wave over at Matt at the nod< "HEllo!" Then settles back with her hands over on her lap as she considers how it magically self shined! Matt Murdock says, "Hope you don't mind if I shoulder my way in." Flashing a warm smile to the strangers as he makes himself right at home. He orders right away, peperoni with sausage and a coke. If he's overheard any of the previous conversation, he makes no note of it. "I'm Matt." He offers out his hand towards Greg, not being the shy type really. Well, he might catch on with the bit about the armor, "People wear armor these days?" Greg chuckles quietly as he considers the possibilities. "What do ya wager he sends it out t' have it polished when nobody's lookin'? Even magical armor, it oughta need some kinda cleanin'. Unless it's got wizardly scrubbin' brushes that appear when he's not wearin' it." Greg stops as the new arrival joins them, and rises to take the gent's offered hand with a firm grip. "Greg. Glad t' know ya. We was just talkin' over super-type heroes, me and Kory here. Shinin' Knight, in particular, and wonderin' how he keeps that magic armor so shiny. An' I still ainan't figure out why that Batman feller sounds like two miles o' gravel road when he talks." Starfire considers, "It is also psosible that MIster Batman might have some throat problems. Perhpas I could offer him a losenge next time I am in Gotham?" Kory muses on this mostly over to herself, "And why should one not wear armor? For I enjoy wearing armor, and armor is very pretty!" With.. Like what she has on now. Or nearly everyday. Matt Murdock nods slowly as he thinks that over, "I'm sure those magic-types have plenty of ways to cheat on the hard work." He grins at the suggestion about Batman and gives his head a small shake, "You're going to offer Batman a losenge, I think I might like to be there for that." He lifts an eyebrow slightly at Starfire and 'looks' at her, at least he's turned to her, amused, "I'm afraid I didn't notice your armor. Isn't it uncomfortable?" "Armor's a fine thang, but for folks without the magical variety, or folks with dainty human-type skin, it does tend to chafe," Greg observes, humor lines crinkling around his eyes. "And not just every hand could could pull off makin' it look as good as you or Sir Justin does. Kory." Greg also guffaws lightly as he starts to take another sip of beer while Kory considers offering Batman a horehound cough drop. "Well...couldn't hurt t' offer. Given 'im afew extras to put in his belt, even." Starfire glances over curiously, "Yes, it is very comfortable. And most of my species wear such thing sas normal attire, so we would all wear it." That may or may not over be a good thing to admit. "It is considered normal wear for all of us then." She glances over at Greg then, "And what do you have over in your hat then?" Matt Murdock says, "Imagine that he'd just talk in a smooth voice after it? It might blow his cover. Either that or it's the smoking he did in his youth?" He quirks an impish smile at the suggestion. He nodsto Kor about her armor, "I'll takeyour word on it." And as for the hat? Well dang, it's not like he can see what it is. Just then the pizza and drink arrives and he murmurs his thanks and enjoys his coke, waiting to hear what's up with the hat." Greg reaches over and re-claims the cowboy hat Kory had been wearing, taking a look-see inside it. "Not shore...let's take stock. Bus pass. City map. Spare kerchief. Probably not what The Batman carries in his poke." Hedoesn't mention the lock picks inside the inner lining. He puts the Stetson on and raises the remainder of his beer in a toast, or maybe a warrior-style salute. "Kory, yore people know how to do right by armor, if yore outfit's typical o' their skill. Here's t' beauty o' design partnered with functional protective gear." He grins & finishes off the remainder of the beer. Starfire nods cheerfully over then at Matt and Greg, "Would you care to join us over here then?" Gesturing over at Matt in welcome, "You can have some of my pizza if you would like." She has already gonet hrough several slices and seesmto have no qualms on ordering more. Which ar ea combination of jalapenos, hot sauce, pineapple, and much, much mustard and some anchovy. Matt Murdock chuckles, "I'm glad to join you two, but I think my tame pizza is fine by me." See, he has his pizza delivered already and everything. Oh yeah, he can tell that it's not the right combination for him-- "Fish on pizza realy isn't my thing." But he does join the pair of them anyway. "So, what was with the hat?" Starfire considers over, "I do not know what was up with the man in the hat. I believe that you might have to ask him that." She goes to eat happily over at her slice. "And I am fine with sharing, for sharing is caring." Kory's methods of speakign could drive saner men nuts. "Kory borrowed mah cowboy hat while she was seranadin' a worked-up, unruly crowd o' commuters stopped in their tracks by a runaway locomotive this morning'," Greg explains for Matt, and picks up his saddle bag, making more room at the table. The good humor is audible in his tone, recalling how the exotic alien gal had folks mesermized with her vocalizin'. "Kory, ya need to hit the karaoke places when ya get the chance, darlin'. Matt, pleasure meetin' yah. Enjoy. The taco an' buffalo wings pie's pretty darn good, too." The Western fella takes off his hat and does a polite bow to his singing pardner, winking at Kory before excusing himself. He stops on the way out and makes sure whatever the couple orders is covered. Matt Murdock's eyebrows lift as he pauses in lifting the pizza to his mouth, "So, distracting citizens from chaos with singing? Interesting plan." He chuckles and gives a wave to Greg when the man takes his leave. "Good to meet you Greg. Hope to run into you again sometime." Starfire gives a wave at the departing Greg as well and then smiles, "He came up wtih a very interesting plan that was also singing and involved a train." She responds over so cheerfully and open over then before turning to Matt, "So what do you do then?" Matt Murdock talks between bites of that wonderful pizza, "I'm an Attorney, have an office out of Hell's Kitchen." He tips his head slightly and grins, "So, how about you? Traiend singer and train wrangler?" Starfire smiles, "I am Koriand'r! I am a member of the Titans out in San Frnacisco. Though sometimes we are teens." She glances over, "And if you are from Hell's Kitchen, what do demons eat? I might wish to take something back for Friend Raven so she can hvae food from home." "Demons eat souls don't you know." Matt says it with a mostly straight face too. His eyebrows lifting slightly behind the glasses. "And you're far from home then hm? Just here for a visit or are you thinking of transplanting?" He pauses and then connects something about this friend Raven, "Your friend is a demon?" Starfire considers, "She is half demon." Starfire considers, "SO what would half a soul go with then as a proper garnish if I were to properly season it?" Her eyes are innocent, and she seems to assume that Matt is speaking to her with complete seriousness! "And I was here to visit a friend." Matt Murdock can't see those eyes, but he can hear the tone in her voice and has to relent on his teasing, his expression falling somewhat. "Oh, well as far as I know, there are no take-out souls. Hell's Kitchen is nothing more than a name for a neighborhood. Like the Tenderloin in your city." He waits to see if she understands, the smile coming back, "Now I'm curious what your half-demon friend eats." Matt Murdock can't see those eyes, but he can hear the tone in her voice and has to relent on his teasing, his expression falling somewhat. "Oh, well as far as I know, there are no take-out souls. Hell's Kitchen is nothing more than a name for a neighborhood. Like the Tenderloin in your city." He waits to see if she understands, the smile coming back, "Now I'm curious what your half-demon friend eats." Starfire nods cheerfully over at Matt, "Well I am told that many people enjoy loins who are tender, though I cannot see why as if you are hit in the loins that oftne hurts, so if you are often tender there it is likely to be incredibly uncomfortable if you are hit in them often. And she is fond of muffins." Matt Murdock pauses mid-bite and /looks/ at Starfire over the top of his glasses, amused. "You really are an innocent aren't you? Well, nevermind." No way he's going to enlighten the girl about the real reason that part of the city is named that. "So, anyway, you're here in the city visiting friends? The trip going well so far?" Oh yes, much better to jump tracks on that particular train. She was so openly honest on things it was like being for a telepath around someone talking very bright and chipper. "And what does being innocent have to do with anything? Unless one is guilty, in which case they are not it, then it would have something to do with. And I was here to visit a friend who is taking classes." Matt Murdock says, "Not that sort of innocent, I am all for those who are not guilty. I mean that you are young." Yeah, this sort of conversation is challening. He takes a bite of pizza instead and slowly nods his head about the friend who is in classes. "My partner /was/ to meet me here. Again he seems to be late. Very unlike him really." Actually she's older than Matt is, but her species ages at a different rate than humans. Yay for xenophysiology! She nods over cheerfully, "I am sorry that your partner has not met you here yet. Has something happened to your partner orare they just not here yet?" Matt Murdock might have smelled something diffrent about Kor, but he's sure not going to fess up to that. Nope. He gives a small shake of his head, "I don't imagine it's anything more than him getting caughtup on something minor. But, I'll go back to the office to check on him. Likely picking up another case." Matt Murdock might have smelled something diffrent about Kor, but he's sure not going to fess up to that. Nope. He gives a small shake of his head, "I don't imagine it's anything more than him getting caughtup on something minor. But, I'll go back to the office to check on him. Likely picking up another case." Matt Murdock finishes the coke and then scoots his chair back. "I hope that your friend will come back soon from classes. You stay out of trouble alright? You going to be alright here alone?" See, he's a polite guy. At this point, Matt's cell would ring, and Foggy would be heard yelling into it excitedly, "Matt, there's a monkey in a suit and tie with a machine gun fighting the Hand outside! He seems to be winning!" Matt Murdock murmurs an appology as he picks up his cel and then listens to the frantic voice of his partner. "Ah--" There might be a curse in there too but he keeps it low, "Keep your head down man!" He doesn't give any reasurance or 'I'll be right there'. But he's already standing up, "Excuse me, sounds like it's more than just a heavy caseload." He manages a cheerful grin to Kor but he's already heading for the door before waiting for her response. Arriving there things are freaky. They're /exactly as Foggy said/. Hell's Kitchen is the site of.. A monkey with a pair of pistols leaping through the air, ducking and evading, shooting shuriken out of midair, and brawling with a dozen low ranking Hand Nnija. Also by this point for whatever reason Foggy has been tied up on a rooftop. Daredevil has just enough time to change into the yellow pj's--er, the suit and cowl before cutting his way across the city. He can hear the gunfire long before he's near the scene. At least Foggy isn't in the middle of things--even if the tied-up position of his buddy isn't exactly reasuring. He checks for any Hand around Foggy first. The crazy monkey with the gun--well, he'll deal with that in a moment. Foggy is having /one of those days/ and screaming like a banshee. There seem to be no ninjas around him, but his Tweety Bird tie is currently torn off and otherwise a few buttons on his suit are popped. The Monkey leaps through the air, blocking one sai strike from low ranking Hand on the butt of his pistol, shoving a foot up to catch another, and then biting off a nose with his teeth from a third. The Monkey is good. As Daredevil arrives, a half dozen of the Hand whirl to face him, "Daredevil!" Daredevil is such a popular guy, "Hey boys." Since his pally is 'safe', though squealing like a stuck pig, he can focus his attention on the ninja swarm. "Miss me?" Staying on the lamp-post where he's perched he aims his billyclub at one of the Hand swarming in close to his position. Then swings down from his with the smell of blood in his nostrils to meet the pack. "OOH OOH AH AH!" The monkey does a brutal near vertical high kick to one of the Hand and sends him sprawling, going to a triple sommersault then to evade some exploding Shuriken. THe Hand call out, arraying themselves in a deadly array of blades, "We strike hard and fast and never miss! And we shall send you to an early grave!" It's Ninja Time. Daredevil's billy club struck out, snapping and breaking the jaw of one Hand ninja as he went sprawling to the ground, unconscious, two more charging in wtih katanas drawn. Daredevil has to admit that the monkey has mad skills, but will have to voice that at a later time. For now, it's the sharp pointy bits coming at him that he's focused on. They might be hard and fast, but he's -- luckily-- faster. And as he whirls to avoid a katana, grabs another Ninja-Hand and whirls him into his breathen, giving him time to snatch up his club again and swipe the legs out from another rushing in. Flow like a reed, sting like a bee. They can't hit whatever you be! Daredevil dances his wya between the ninjas, breaking the leg of one, smashing his way through another then as the monkey is firing his bullets through the mass of ninjas. What's the appropriate term for ninjas in large numbers? A gaggle? A murder? A flock? the ricocheting Billyclub just was smacking them down as they swarmed! Daredevil does give them the chance to back down, after the first few hits strike home he whirls back and stays hunched low to await the next wave. That wave is pelted with a series of strikes, but his hesitation to let them 'flee' also allows a few of their strikes to hit home, grazing his shoulder with the sharp flick of blade. It doesn't help that he also has to dodge monkey-fire. "Quit-it!" "Rooh Rah Ahh Oo!" That.. Sounds something like an apology. At least, as far as gesticulations from a monkey beating on ninjas went. Hit Monkey leapt up, grabbed two ninjas by the heads and went to bang them together like coconuts. Brawling with the Hand then, some of them fleeing over and trying to escape or bring reinforcements, Hit Monkey going to whip up his gun to try and aim at the ones running. Daredevil brings down another of the Hand who has not yet gotten it through that it's a fight that's going to end badly and that retreating /is/ an option. He's just caught the club back when he notices the monkey about to take aim at those who are turning tail. that just won't do! THe club is aimed at the gun just as the Hit Monkey's hands wrap around the hilt, bashing it away from him with a satisfying clatter. The Monkey whireld about to face Daredevil as the guns were knocked away from his hands, "Ooh Ahh Ahh AHH!" An accusing tone then, gesturing up and over at Daredevil with his face. Meanwhile, Foggy had spat otu his gag, "Daredevil, it sounds like he's upset!" Yes, it was a Monday. Daredevil lets the Monkey chatter angrily at him for a moment. Maybe he's just not sure if the animal will understand him. He has his club back though--just in case he might need to drive the point home. "You don't have to kill them. It'll just make them come after you harder next time." Or so the story goes. He 'looks' towards the rooftop and Foggy up there. "And /you/, just how did you get mixed up in this?" The Monkey gives Daredevil a look and a.. Nod. "Ooh ahh ahh Ooohaa." That.. Sounds like understanding. But it also sounds like a 'but I'll get them next time' of a sort. He goes to retrieve his guns, ajdusts his tie, and then goes to leap off the side of the building if not stopped. Foggy uhms, "I was trying to get a better shot for my Facebook. They'd never have believed there was an actual monkey fighting ninjas!" Daredevil tracks the strange little warrior-monkey for a moment longer with his other senses, just to be sure he shouldn't go and take his knees out if he's going to chase after the hand and continue to stir upmore trouble. With the rest of the hand picking up their wounded and crawling off, he can turn his attention to Foggy, swinging up to get him un-tied. "Uh-huh. And you just happened to get tied up? You know, a you tube video just isn't worth it." He doesn't linger after getting the man un-tied. He'll have to make a 'late arrival' as Matt by the time his partner makes it downstairs afterall. Foggy pauses, "The ninjas had me all tied up when they saw me filming. I assume they didn't want witnesses. But they also didn't want to stab me and have me falling out the window." He's rubbing over his arms to try and get circulation back. "And thank you for saving me Daredevil. Oh -man- I've gotta call Matt now and make sure he knows I'm okay. He'll probably be halfway back here by now coming to save me!" Foggy runs downstairs then while frantically trying to dial his phone to call his partner. Oh sure, Foggy can run--but really, he's not as fast or slick as Matt. Practice at the quick-change of outfits just at the alley by the building and he's already tapping his way up the sidewalk when his phone buzzes. He doesn't even answer it, sweeping into the door of the law offices, "Foggy? Hey, where's your monkey?"! Foggy breathes heavily, "Matt, there were ninjas fighting a monkey wtih pistols outside! And the ninjas tied me up and then Daredevil came and saved me!" Matt Murdock can't help but smile at his buddy and gets him a glass of water from the cooler, passing it over, "Take it easy man, you're going to pass out on me. Are you ok?" He grins at the story but then puts on a 'you have got to be kidding me' look. "Uh-huh. I didn't hear any gunfire on my way in. It didn't take me /that/ long to get from Queens back home. YOu know, if you don't have to make up some crazy story just to duck out of lunch." Foggy breathes heavily, "But Matt, this is Hell's Kitchen! Sure the ninjas are normal but a monkey fighting them is new! Come on Matt, you've got to believe me! And I love Ray's! I never would have skipped out on a lunch date if it wasn't something astounding and amazing!" Matt Murdock's shoulders shake in a silent laugh and he lifts his hand in a smoothing motion to his friend. "Alright, I guess I have to take your word on it. And if Daredevil showed up to light them up--I guess it had to be real. You alright though? No monkey business?" Ha ha. Oh man, he just can't help himself. Foggy lets out a sad sigh, "I lost my tie. The one wtih Tweety Bird on it. That was my good luck tie. I was gonna take it to court with me next Tuesday when we went in for the deposition." Foggy added, "And I'll never look at those AOL advertisements for Internet from the late nineties the same way again ever." Matt Murdock chuckles and starts to make his way towards his office. "We'll get you a new magic tie Foggy. Just glad you're alright. You are just a magnet for trouble."